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These Nights Grow More Baroque
Nights where no sleep occurs, oscillating nightmare drips across my eyes
A dinner consisted of two Jumbo Push Pops and lukewarm orange soda
As these walls begin to make more sense, I grow more terrified
The lamps knitting scarves and gloves for me, to survive these harsh cold slumbers
Growing out of my fingernails bark, each day I measure the progress
Soon the sheets will swallow me, and trim will skin be close to salvation in wolfs pelt
Thank you for taking the time to look at my work, it means a great deal to me.
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